


Noodles

by terribad



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terribad/pseuds/terribad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An entry for Korrlok Week in 2012 that I finally got around to uploading.  Korra, wanting to try cooking dinner for Tarrlok, finds a traditional recipe in Pema's cookbook and sets off in search of a rare, but required, ingredient for the dish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noodles

Korra didn't know what she was thinking when she decided she was going to cook Tarrlok dinner for his birthday.  They both knew well enough that the young Avatar had no prowess in the skill, yet she insisted on it regardless of his pleas to simply take him out somewhere decent.  Of course, if things went completely south, they'd simply order take-out and never speak of Korra's doomed night in the kitchen again.

 Korra spent the night before going through Pema's recipe books in the kitchen, taking note of one that seemed perfectly innocuous and easy enough to prepare – a simple dish known only as 'boat noodle soup.'  The recipe seemed easy enough: Noodles, spices, water, a bit of meat (who doesn't love meat?)... the only other thing to really stand out to her was the presence of in ingredient known only as 'sacred herb' on the list.

 She scratched her head, figuring it was some weird name for an otherwise common spice.  Maybe it was an Earth Kingdom thing.  Or even an Air Nomad thing!  So the following afternoon, Korra set off to the market to gather the things she needed.  Figuring Tarrlok had the spices at his ludicrously large and well-stocked kitchen, all she needed to get was the noodles, the meat, and whatever this 'sacred herb' thing was.  But when she showed the clerk at the store her recipe card while checking out, pointing to the mysterious leaf she had written down, all she got was a dirty look from the older woman and asked to leave. 

 This went on from store to store as Korra pressed on in search of this seemingly very elusive ingredient – and after getting kicked out of so many places, she was starting to get discouraged.  But it seemed to be an important part of the recipe, so she instead took to the busy open street market and asked anyone she saw selling spices and herbs.  After spending the entire afternoon on her search, she nearly gave up as she settled onto a bench when a shifty-looking spice merchant beckoned her over to his stall. 

 “I hear you're in search of some herb,” he whispered, glancing around.  “You're not a cop, are ya?”

 “Er, no.  But you've got sacred herb?  I've been looking all over Republic City for some!  You see, I wanted to give a, uh, friend of mine a special night for his birthday, and...”

 The merchant raised a hand to hush her.  “Say no more, my friend, and follow me.  I've got the stickiest herb in the city.”

 “...'Sticky'?”  Korra asked, hesitantly as she is guided into the alley by the scruffy-looking man.

 “That's how ya know it's good!  You know people try to sell common general store leaves and try to pass it off as the good stuff?  Look, see for yourself.”  The merchant, a scrawny, graying fellow with dull clothes, fished into the inside of his coat and pulled out a small paper bag.  He looked around once more before unrolling it open and gently dropping a small, green wad of plant into the palm of her hand. 

 Korra wrinkled her nose at the decidedly pungent smell of the herb as she gingerly poked at it with a finger.  “Uh, I guess it's pretty sticky!  Is that normal?” 

The merchant heartily laughed, giving her a friendly slap on the back.  “Of course it is!  Never tried it before?”

 Recalling her lengthy search for the damn thing, she shook her head. “I can't say that I have.”

 “You know how to use it?”

 “Oh, um, I have a recipe for it...”

 A gray eyebrow lifted in amusement at the naivety of the Avatar, and he started to laugh good-naturedly.  “Making edibles on the first try?  Just don't overdo it, you'll be knocked off your ass if you do!” 

 Korra smiled sheepishly at the man.  “So, uh, how much do I need for two?  It's for a really special dinner.  And how much would it be?”

 The man peeked back into his bag and quietly counted, hmming to himself as he rolled the bag shut and held it out to her.  “Forty yuans.”

 “F-forty?”  Korra blanched, but reached for her coin pouch nonetheless.  If it was expensive, Tarrlok had to have liked it.  Maybe he'd appreciate the fact that she spent so much money on just _spice._   She smiled at the prospect, and as money changed hands, Korra beamed with pride at acquiring what would surely make the best weird boat noodle soup thing she'd ever create.  As they departed, she was given tips on how to prepare it, something about oil and warning that it'd make the house stink... and she thanked the man and set off on Naga's back to make it to Tarrlok's home that evening. 

 Tarrlok is, of course, as apprehensive about Korra cooking for him as he was when she announced her plans to do so for his birthday.  When he was told it was going to be special, and had expensive ingredients, all he could do was cringe at the idea of Korra improperly handling these pricy garnishes and handing him something that may well have been better off in a trough. 

 The strong and positively skunky smell emanating from the kitchen as Korra set off to work caused him worry.  It sounded like she was brewing dandelion weeds in there or something, only more raw and sinister... it reeked like an orgy of weaselskunks that overpowered the rest of the house.  Tarrlok delicately covered his nose with a napkin, and was VERY worried at the surprise Korra had in store.

 It took all the years of him practicing his political poker face as Korra proudly walked out of the kitchen with two steaming bowls of relatively normal-looking soup – one deposited before him, and one before her as she sat down across from him.  The smell was still there, and he gingerly prodded at it with his chopsticks.  “This... doesn't look like standard Water Tribe fare,” he said, arching a brow as he lifted a noodle to the light – opaque and white, like regular rice noodles.  And he couldn't help but notice the strange, tightly-curled green leaves that bobbed around in the brownish-red broth. 

“I don't know where it's from,” Korra shrugged, already starting to eat and showing no immediate signs of discomfort.  “I found it in one of Pema's books.  Must be really old or traditional or something, one of the ingredients was really expensive and almost nobody had it for sale...”

Tarrlok hesitated to ask what this expensive ingredient actually was.  The man had no idea what kind of money Korra carried around, and if she'd actually spent maybe 5 yuans on it.  He reluctantly takes a bite, slowly and agonizingly slurping the noodles.  There was a strange plant-y taste to them, one that seemed vaguely familiar yet he couldn't place it right away.  But aside from that, the soup was disturbingly edible, especially made at the hands of Korra.  He even started to get used to the weird flavoring, much to his alarm and dismay.  The Avatar cooked something not only edible, but actually not that bad to eat, as well? 

And most unexpectedly, he was starting to feel a little bit happier the longer he ate.  Between the two of them, they put away the entire batch without second thought.  The smell was no longer an issue, and by the time they were both done eating, they couldn't be bothered to move from their seats.  Tarrlok had settled into a most uncharacteristic slouch in his chair, fingers knitted and resting over his contented belly as he watched Korra finish off her last bowl.

“...My head feels really heavy,” she murmured, her head sagging between her shoulders – taking some distant mental note about how her entire body felt like one big leaded weight, like gravity had firmly grounded her and kept her but magnetically stuck to the chair she'd been sitting in. 

A lazy smile crept across Tarrlok's face as he rested an arm over the back of his chair.  “A special dinner, you said,” he smirked, barely containing his composure.  “What'd you put in it to make it so special, sticky seaweed?”

“Sticky...” Korra vaguely had memories of the man in the alley.  Something about the sacred herb being sticky.  “Yeah, it was pretty sticky--”

Tarrlok burst into laughter, his face looking bizarrely happy for the first time ever in the times Korra had seen him in person.  “And it was part of the soup?”

“Boat noodle soup, you know about it?”

 The Councilman's laughter echoed through the room – there wasn't a single moment about this where he didn't seem to be too hard to entertain, and the laughter was infectious as Korra laughed with him although it barely registered to her what either of them were even laughing AT.  “Of all the people in Republic City to have even _heard_ of that, the last one I'd expect would be you...” He settled into his chair, relaxed.  “I personally prefer mine smoked, so you'll have to try some with me that way next time.  So good.”

 Had Korra been sober, she would have made note of the sudden drop in formalities in Tarrlok's speech – but now, she was too far gone to care, draping her arms so haphazardly over the back of her chair and blue eyes seemingly stuck in a permanent squint above a wide, lazy smile. “I could totally be a lighter with my firebending,” she murmured aloud, considering one of her hands as she stared enrapt at the sheer complexity of her fingers. 

 It felt like every body part of hers was melting with each step.  Pools of brown flesh drooped down her legs until she was nothing but liquid, walk-slithering her way to the couch as the equally intoxicated Tarrlok followed her, running a hand down her shoulder as he sat down beside her like a lovesick puppy.  The effects of the soup had no signs of wearing off, especially as one considers how long it would take for them to finally sober up.

 Tarrlok heavily lifted her into his lap, laying down and wrapping big arms around her as they touched noses together.  This was surely the calmest Korra had felt in her life, blazed out of her mind and held in the protective, loving embrace of her most strangest of bedfellows, who was just as affected as she was by this sacred herb of the boat noodle soup.  Neither of them wanted to move, their bodies heavy and made of stone, unmoving, unthinking.  Their bodies were warm together, intertwined, and at peace as they could only hear each other's breathing.  Korra would occasionally mumble something about feeling her teeth growing and Tarrlok would chuckle, stroke a big hand down her back, and plant a loving, nuzzling kiss on her cheek in an otherwise firm couchlock.

 The minutes that had passed felt like hours as the world outside sped around them.  That was okay, the speeding Satomobiles on the street only felt so temporal...

 Korra fell asleep with her head on Tarrlok's chest, lulled by his soothing heartbeats and the heaviness of her limbs.  He gave her another kiss and followed suit, snoring gently with his big bear arms still firmly tangled around her, like limp, leaden noodles together.


End file.
